


Still Waters

by Shaded Mazoku (Ashkaztra)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, Community: mer_ficathon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Shaded%20Mazoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In a galaxy ruled by the Asurans, John Sheppard ends up on a forgotten planet where there is nothing but water. Water and something in deep in the depths of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Waters

_In the time of the Ancients, when they were still fighting the Hungry Ones, there was life on the planet known as Mithana. It was known as the lily pad city, its buildings floating on the water like miniatures of the proud city ship, the jewel of Lantea. But in the siege, they were abandoned, and the Hungry Ones fell upon them like a plague from the skies. They fought bravely, but they were not warriors, and the Hungry Ones kept coming. For each one slain, three more rose to take its place. Eventually, as with all things, Mithana fell, its buildings swallowed by its dark ocean._

_Many years later, the Ancients, in desperation, paid for the defeat on the Hungry Ones with their own lives. They created the Asurans, the soulless ones, who turned on their creators and destroyed them all. Once their masters laid dead before them, they turned their gaze to the Hungry Ones. The soulless Asurans could not sustain the Hungry Ones, and they were even more numerous. With time, the Hungry Ones were all destroyed._

_Some say, though, that the Asurans did not destroy them all. Some say that a few of their ships escaped, making their way to the world they’d once destroyed so thoroughly. Some say they are still there, as hungry for revenge as they ever were for human souls._

_Whatever happens, this much is known; there is a world within the gate web, a dark and mist-filled world with ocean and wetlands as far as the eye can see. Its symbols appear in no records, and there is no buildings, no trace of life. Its gate has long since fallen into the depths of the sea._

_And there is something in the water._

*

John bit back a curse and threw himself sideways to avoid the blast coming his way. He only partially managed, his shoulder getting clipped before he landed gracelessly on the ground. He’d lost his P90 a while back, but it didn’t really matter. The Asurans had long since adapted, leaving him with only a knife to rely on. While they couldn’t really adapt to a low-tech blade, he wasn’t exactly eager to get into close combat with an Asuran. Not with the kind of strength the replicators had.

He wished he’d had Ronon’s seemingly endless supply of knives, and his accuracy in throwing them. Actually, he just wished he’d had Ronon there.

He didn’t. He had a knife, a pack with supplies, and a flash drive that was currently his main priority. If he could just get that back to Atlantis, everything would be worth it. He did have bandages in the pack, but he had no time to stop to tend to his shoulder, even if it was bleeding now.

The nearest Asuran fired another blast in his direction. John rolled sideways to dodge the impact, and found himself falling into the water. He sputtered for a moment before he managed to catch his breath. The water was deep, deep and much warmer than he’d expected. Getting his bearings, he took a deep breath and sank below the surface, swimming underwater for as long as he could hold that breath. The heavy fog and the distortion from the water might make him a more difficult target.

When he surfaced again, a good distance away, he quickly noticed that the Asurans were not following. Of course, their weapons had range enough that they didn’t need to, but they actually seemed hesitant. It couldn’t be the water worrying them. He’d seen Asurans swim before. Besides, for machines, Asurans had very human-like body language, and he could swear they almost seemed afraid.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, John took advantage of their hesitation to swim further away from them, around a small arm of land he could hide behind. In the mist, the Asurans were only visible as silhouettes at that distance. They seemed to be arguing, two of the five gesticulating at each other. Two more were listening to whatever the argument was about. The fifth seemed to be the only one who remembered John’s presence, approaching the edge of the water.

He knelt down and leaned out over the water, bringing up what was no doubt a life sign detector. John bit back a curse. They needed to find a way to mask their life signs somehow. His gaze flickered to his knife. If he threw it very hard, he might be able to take out one of them, if he was extremely lucky.

There was a splash, and John looked back over just in time to see the Asuran disappear into the water. It didn’t resurface.

Technically, it could probably swim over and attack him from below, but the reaction of the remaining Asurans seemed to indicate something was wrong. One of them was yelling, though John couldn’t understand him. Two of the other three huddled close to the yelling one, the fourth backing away from the water. Then he was just gone. One minute he was clearly silhouetted in the mist, the next there was nothing there. The remaining three Asurans seemed close to panic now, as one more of them were pulled back into the mist.

One of the Asurans screamed something, a word John had only heard in the Ancient logs. He remembered, if only because their linguists had argued whether it meant “death" or something closer to “ghost". Either seemed appropriate right now.

Something brushed his foot, and he startled badly, biting back a yelp. The remaining two Asurans seemed busy with whatever was over there, but he didn’t want to remind them that he was there, or draw their attacker’s attention to him.

 _Probably just reed_ , he told himself, but he knew perfectly well that the water was too deep for reeds where he was currently hiding.

He pulled himself up a little to see what was happening with the Asurans.

Something pulled him back down.

His ankle was caught on something. Bracing himself on the edge, he tried to kick free, but it didn’t budge.

John looked down, breath caught in his throat.

Something looked back up at him, something with glowing eyes, and then he was pulled under.

Kicking again, he tried desperately to get free, but the hold on his ankle was like steel. He tried swimming back up, but there was no getting loose. The descent was quick, his head and chest aching as the water pressure got to him. John trashed one last time, using all the strength he had left, before he couldn’t hold his breath any more.

His world went black.

*

The fact that he woke up again was honestly more surprising than where he woke up. John blinked slowly as he woke, then sat up suddenly, gasping for air he didn’t actually need. Once he realised that he was no longer drowning, he calmed a little, though he remained alert.

He was in some sort of odd chamber, the walls looking almost alive. They gave off faint yellow light, and pulsed slightly under his fingers when he touched one of the panels. It was nice and warm in there, and his pack was lying on some sort of table-like structure growing out of the floor. It would have been almost cosy if it wasn’t for the missing wall.

Wherever he was, it was under water. That much was obvious. Outside the missing wall, he could just barely make out what seemed like underwater pillars, and what could only be kelp swayed lazily back and forth, like some kind of underwater forest. In the distance, only barely visible, something John strongly suspected was a shark swam past.

Getting to his feet, he walked over to the missing wall. He couldn’t see any kind of glass or membrane holding the water back, but the chamber he was in was completely dry and apparently pressurized to sea level norms. Carefully, he reached out towards the blocked water.

There wasn’t any glass. His fingers didn’t meet any resistance until they were in the water, just like putting his hand in a bucket of water.

 _A forcefield of some sort?_ He thought, pulling his hand back. It was wet up to his wrist. If there was a forcefield, the chamber he was in was a man-made air pocket, or something-made, at any rate.

It also meant he could technically leave, but he had no idea how deep down he was, and there was no way he could make it all the way to the surface. If the lack of air didn’t kill him, the pressure probably would.

“At least the Asurans probably won’t find me here," he muttered to himself, and walked over to the table, digging through his pack. It was still damp, but it was drying out, which meant he’d probably have been unconscious for a while. The capsule he kept the flash drive in was still sealed, so at least that was safe. His MREs were still edible, so he opened one and ate it as he tried figuring out what to do next. The room did have panels that looked a bit like doors, but he doubted any of them led to a nice staircase to the surface. Still, at the moment, it was the best plan he had.

Finishing his meal with a drink of water, he packed his supplies again and walked over to one of the doors. There was no control panel or anything like that, which didn’t surprise him much. Thinking at it didn’t help, either. His knife was missing, but he didn’t think that digging into the walls with a blade would have been such a good idea, either.

Whatever had pulled him under must have had some reason to do so, he figured, and unless he was in an underwater zoo, it probably wasn’t to look him in a room for the rest of eternity. He wondered if the Asurans were somewhere down here, too, locked in their own pods. He hoped not.

Sitting down on the floor where he’d woken up, where there was a soft layer of something that was almost like a mattress, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, just to rest them a little. The dim light was putting more strain on him than he’d have liked.

When he opened his eyes again, there was something outside the forcefield, looking in at him.

The light was too dim for him to tell exactly what it looked like, but it was humanoid in shape, with arms and legs much like his own and long white hair floating around its head. Its eyes caught the light and reflected it back, making them seem to glow.

John got to his feet and walked up to the force field. The creature didn’t move, allowing him a decent look at it.

It was a little taller than he was, probably closer to Ronon’s height, though it was leaner than he was, and it didn’t really look that different from a human. Maybe because of that similarity, the differences that were present were even more notable. The creature’s yellow cat eyes, green skin and those strange diagonal slits on its face only served to make it look very unsettling, more than it would have if it hadn’t looked as human-shaped as it did.

It also had a beard, he noticed, which he assumed meant it was male. Male or a very strange breed of catfish.

It didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that John was close enough to touch it right now. Apparently he didn’t seem like much of a threat. John just hoped he didn’t seem like dinner, either, because it would have been embarrassing to escape death by Asurans only to get eaten by a guy who looked like a were-shark or something.

The creature just kept looking at him for a while, apparently not dependant on blinking. His eyes were odd, but they didn’t seem nearly as cold as he’d have expected from an aquatic creature. In fact, he mostly seemed curious, as though John was a puzzle piece and he was trying to figure out the best place for him.

After a while, John turned away and stepped up to the table, feeling a little uneasy under the creature’s scrutiny. It was as though he saw right through him, which wasn’t a thought he enjoyed. Shoving the pack to the floor, he sat down on the table, facing his visitor.

As if taking it as an invitation, the creature quietly stepped forwards, through the forcefield. Apparently he was more amphibian than fish, because he didn’t seem bothered by going from breathing water to breathing air. At least John assumed that they breathed water, considering that they seemed to live only underwater.

“Hi there," John tried. He had no idea if the creature even spoke, but he had to try communicating if he wanted to get out of there.

The creature didn’t respond, just walked up to him. He reached out and traced his fingers over the Atlantis Expedition logo on John’s jacket. His touch was careful, but John had a feeling he was a lot stronger than he looked.

“It’s a flying horse," John told him. “Not that you’d have any idea what a horse is, of course."

The only response he got was the creature moving his hand from John’s arm to his face, resting his fingers on his temple and his forehead.

Those nails were even sharper than they looked, John decided. If he tried to move away, they’d rip his skin open. He settled for giving him his best defiant stare instead, trying not let his unease show. One slip of a finger and he’d be blind on one side.

He had no idea how long he sat like that, looking up into those yellow eyes as the creature effectively held his head in place. It felt like a very long time, though. When the creature finally let him go, he pulled back almost instinctively, and almost toppled backwards of the table.

Apparently, the creature found that amusing, because he bared his teeth in what John thought might be a grin.

Those teeth definitely didn’t hurt the were-shark theory any; sharp and numerous like something out of a nightmare.

The creature made a strange sound in the depth of his throat before turning around and disappearing into the water.

“Friendly guy," John muttered, glaring after him. _At least he’s nicer than the Asurans._

He dropped back down on the mattress-like surface again, lying down. At least he knew who was keeping him there now. If only he’d known why, he might have been able to negotiate something. Not that he had anything in particular to offer to a creepy underwater alien, but anything was better than not knowing what was going on.

 _He’s probably keeping me fresh for a nice snack later, or something,_ he thought to himself. It wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. Still, no creature had teeth like that without being a predator.

Pulling off his jacket, John rolled it up and stuck it under his head. For now, the best he could do was to preserve his strength. Besides, he had a hell of a day.

It didn’t take him very long to fall asleep.

*

When he woke up, he wasn’t alone. The creature was back, sitting back on his haunches as he watched him sleep.

“That’s just a little bit creepy, you know," John muttered as he hauled himself up.

The creature bared his teeth in something like a grin again, and pushed something into John’s hands.

It was a parcel of some sort, apparently made from something like waxed canvas. It smelled nice, though. Unwrapping it carefully, John peered into it and tried identifying its contents. It looked like fish. Fish and some sort of seaweed, boiled and cut into bite-sized chunks. His stomach chose that moment to remind him that not only was he getting hungry; he hadn’t had anything fresh in weeks. Picking out a chunk of fish, he popped it into his mouth and chewed carefully.

It didn’t have much flavour other than fish, but it was warm and flaked as he ate, and it was much better than stale MREs and dried alien yak meat. The seaweed mostly tasted like brine, and a little bit like birch leaves. Together, the tastes weren’t bad at all. Despite having to pick out quite a few bones, John quickly devoured the meal, trying to figure out how to boil fish underwater.

He handed the empty parcel back to the creature, who took it and folded it into his outfit with practised ease.

“Thanks," John tried. He had no idea if the creature could speak at all, but at least he seemed to understand, so being polite couldn’t hurt his case.

The creature gave him a nod in reply and rose to his feet, walking up to one of the door panels John had found earlier. This time, the door slid open and stayed that way, revealing a dark hallway behind it.

John got to his feet as well, walking closer and peering around the creature’s shoulder.

Turning around to face him, the creature’s gaze wandered from John to the table and back, before he made a small, decisive sound and walked through the forcefield again like it wasn’t even there.

John watched him swim away until he faded into the darkness, before turning his attention to the door and the hallway beyond it.

The hallway was relatively narrow, with two doors, one on either side. He ignored those for the moment and followed the hallway until it came to an end, filling up with dark water. Judging by the layout and architecture, if you could call the almost-living walls that, John couldn’t help but think that this place hadn’t originally been intended for use under water. The hallways were too narrow to have been intended to swim in.

He turned back and prodded the doors. Unlike earlier, they opened for him this time, revealing another chamber just like the one he’d been locked in, only with a window where the forcefield was in his room, and another room that was apparently a bathroom of sorts, still functioning to a certain degree. That was one worry taken care of, at least. It seemed a little too convenient, though.

John really wished the damn creature would talk to him.

*

The next time the creature returned, he brought bottles of fresh water, placing them carefully on the table.

“Look," John began, hoping the creature did in fact understand him as well as it seemed he did. “I have data my friends really need. That’s why those Asurans were after me. I stole the data from one of their outposts and it turned out to be much more than just the schematics we’d expected. If I can get this to At ... My friends, they can find some way to use it against the Asurans." The data was encoded, of course, but between Rodney and Radek, they would crack that and find out just what it was the replicators were so keen on hiding.

There was no response, of course. The creature was watching him intently, but didn’t give any sign of being convinced.

John sighed, picking up one of the bottles and turning it over. They were glass bottles, but the stopper wasn’t glass, or cork, or anything like that. It was hard and smooth, and black with a green shimmer to it, like a raven’s feather or a beetle shell. “You’re a hard person to argue with, aren’t you?" He asked.

At least that got a response, as the creature gave him look that could only be described as smug.

*

That became the pattern for John’s life for the next days. He divided his time between the first chamber, with the forcefield, and the second, more closed off one, depending on how frustrated he currently felt at his host. The creature came and went, going between pressure levels so quickly John was amazed he didn’t get the bends every time he stepped into the room. If he did, it didn’t affect him much, at least not that he showed.

He gave no hints as to why he was keeping John there, but he clearly made an effort to make him comfortable. Often, he brought things when he came, and there was no pattern to his offerings. Sometimes, they’d be food, other times something to brighten up the rooms with. There was now a large, round snail’s shell on the floor. The biologists back at Atlantis would have loved to see that shell. It was large enough that John had taken to using it as a seat. Another gift, a large piece of coral, had become his jacket-and-backpack rack.

John couldn’t help but feeling a bit like someone’s pampered pet.

As imprisonment went, it was a pleasant one, but he was getting more and more stressed out. He needed to get that flash drive back to Atlantis. It had been paid for in blood, and even if it hadn’t, it was still too important for him to play around there.

There was no chance of rescue, not here, so if he wanted to get home, he’d have to find a way on his own.

*

“I don’t have the time for this!" John snarled, indicating the room with a sweep of his hand. “Find yourself another pet, dammit!"

Grabbing one of the bottles off of their make-shift shelf, a piece of driftwood he’d been gifted with earlier, he threw it at the creature. It wasn’t something he’d normally do, but with no weapons at hand, he had few options to show his frustration.

The creature calmly sidestepped the flying bottle, which flew through the forcefield and disappeared into the depths. He bared his teeth slightly, a clear warning, and there was a tenseness to his stance that told John he wasn’t happy with the way things were developing.

 _How sad for him,_ John thought, glaring at the taller man. “I don’t know why you’ve brought me here, but I’m not some trained animal who does tricks for treats. I have a military command post to return to, and people who depend on me. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not delighted to be kidnapped by some heavy metal reject!"

Turning his back to the creature, he found himself facing the giant coral, and an idea occurred to him. Coral was sharp. Not as sturdy as a knife, but certainly a better weapon than a glass bottle. If only he could get the upper hand, even for a moment, he might be able to force the creature to bring him back up to surface.

The coral broke off easily, a jagged piece that would probably cut him up as well. As long as he could still dial a gate, John found that he didn’t really care that much.

He let his shoulders slump and lowered his head, letting it seem like he’d given up arguing. It seemed to work. Before long, the creature had come closer, reaching out to touch John’s shoulder.

John whirled around as quickly as he could manage, holding the piece of coral to the creature’s neck. “I’ll be returning to the surface now," he said, hoping he looked half as confident as he forced himself to sound.

The creature snorted, grabbing John’s wrist in a steel-like grip, trying to make him drop the coral.

John did, only to catch it with his other hand and dig it into the creature’s upper arm. He didn’t really want to hurt him, but he needed him to see that he was serious.

When he pulled the coral back out, it came out covered in black liquid. John barely had the time to realise that the creature actually bled black before he was grabbed by the throat and slammed hard into the wall. The creature snarled at him, his nails digging painfully into John’s neck as his other hand pressed against his sternum.

For a moment, John thought he was going to die.

Instead, he found himself landing on the floor, letting go of the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, as the creature stood above him, staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

By the time John manage to drag himself back to his feet, the creature was already long gone.

*

When he returned, what John’s internal clock informed him was hours later, the creature had his arms full. Most of it, he dropped on the floor in a careless heap, but not before John recognized the packaged fire blanket from the Puddle Jumper, and several other objects bearing the expedition’s symbol.

John had landed what little was left of the jumper in the water, to lessen the impact. He should have guessed the creature would discover it.

The creature seemed almost hesitant, in stark contrast to his earlier behaviour. He did grab hold of John’s shoulders and direct him to sit down on his shell chair, but he was surprisingly gentle as he did. As John watched, he pulled out a first aid kit from his heap of things, setting it on the table, before flipping it open and kneeling down so he could reach better. He stared a little at the various things inside it, uncorking a bottle of antiseptic to smell it.

The snarl he gave was enough to make John chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not a pleasant smell," he agreed. “Useful, though." The energy to fight had gone out of him for now. It seemed like it had for the creature, too.

He tilted his head back without being asked, letting the creature clean the cuts on his neck from here his nails had breached the skin earlier. The creature seemed to know what he was doing, steady and meticulous as he tended to the injuries. He cleaned them thoroughly before fastening gauze pads onto John’s neck.

“Thanks," John said, prodding the gauze carefully. It probably wasn’t necessary, the cuts were not that deep, but it was nice of the creature to fix him up anyway. Even if he probably only did so because he felt guilty.

As the creature got to his feet again and apparently turned to leave, John reached out and caught his sleeve, getting to his feet as well.

“I should return the favour," he said, indicating the hole in the sleeve where he’d stabbed him earlier. It was certainly a deeper injury than his own.

Without waiting for an answer, he slid the sleeve the other man’s arm, and found himself blinking. The hole might still be there, but there was no sign of an injury, just a lot of smooth green skin marbled with dark veins. “OK," he muttered. “You’re kind of scary, you know that?"

The creature actually laughed that time.

*

There was a tablet PC in the heap of things he’d been brought from the jumper. The creature had clearly realised it was technological in nature, because he’d put it in some sort of waterproof container.

John didn’t use the tablets often, but he’d seen them used enough to figure them out pretty well, and it didn’t take him that long to get it up and running, searching the Ancient database for anything that sounded even vaguely related to his host or underwater societies. He didn’t find anything. Even the planet he was on wasn’t actually in the database as far as he could tell. Of course, the database was ten thousand years old, so the planet might have changed a lot since it was written.

On a whim, he tried a search for organic technology, looking at the dimly glowing panels in the wall. The way the doors slid up reminded him of something.

There wasn’t much on that subject, either. _What the heck is a hive ship?_ He wondered as he read. It didn’t sound good. Those files were all missing, though, probably another casualty of the Asuran virus that had caused Atlantis to go into stasis while it repaired. Only a few files were accessible. There were technical specs for something called a Dart, a small gateship like the jumper, but more jet-like where the jumper was more of a helicopter in function. Another file had mentions of stun lances, which there weren’t specs for, because if there were, they’d found them and used them against the Asurans by now.

And then there was the diagram. It didn’t have a name, and part of the file was corrupted, but it showed a spaceship layout for a techno-organic ship. It was only partially rendered, but John was suddenly painfully aware that it looked almost identical to the theoretical layout of the structure he was in, if he took the flooded halls into account.

A spaceship would explain the presence of a forcefield, and why the inside was perfectly pressurized to sea level atmosphere.

If the blueprint was accurate, there were large vents in the ship. One ran straight up to what he guessed was the control room.

There was a rebreather among the things from the jumper. John hadn’t given it much thought because the pressure outside was still way higher than his lungs could withstand, but inside the structure, where the pressure was normalized, it could work. It was only an emergency rebreather, with about half an hour of gas, but it was better than just staying there until his host got bored.

He doubted the ship was space-worthy as it was, but it could let him return safely the surface if he could get it working.

It was a bad idea, but it was all he had.

He spent the next few hours memorizing what looked like the fastest route and hoping that the blueprints were accurate.

Before he left, he wrote a note on the tablet computer, even if he had no idea if the creature could read English, or read at all. It wasn’t much of a note, just a request to take the flash drive to the given address, along with the symbols for New Athos. Maybe he’d be willing to let the data go even if he didn’t want John to.

*

As he swam through the hallways, John discovered a new-found appreciation for the creepy organic technology. The lighting panels worked perfectly well underwater, letting him see without using precious battery time on his flash-light. It might be supposedly waterproof, but without batteries, it wouldn’t work, and he’d need the light for any detail work.

Swimming inside a ventilation shaft was a bit precarious. He couldn’t do breast strokes because the walls were too close, and kicking his feet didn’t work as well as it would if he’d been wearing flippers. Still, he managed, and the walls were really close enough that he could drag himself along if he needed to. He was really glad he wasn’t claustrophobic, though.

The sheer silence down there was unsettling. It was silent up in the rooms he’d spent the last days in, too, but he was entirely too aware of the silence while he was down there in the dark, aware that it meant that he was alone and out of reach should anything happen. The phrase “silent as the grave" was never more apt than right then.

Finally, he reached the strange intersection he remembered from the diagrams. From there, he only had a little further to go. Turning the corner, he swam up the last vent and stopped.

That wall wasn’t in the blueprint.

Looking closer, it seemed to be a sluice of sorts, or an airlock, rather, but that was little comfort as long as there was no getting through. Mind reeling to come up with alternate routes, John was well aware that he was breathing faster now, which wasn’t good. His head was starting to hurt, as well.

Biting back a curse, he spent a little while carefully turning around and headed back down, trying to remember the other ways around.

As he swam on, his head hurt more, and he was beginning to get nauseous. His legs and arms were beginning to feel stiff, and he was rapidly feeling exhausted.

John knew the signs of hypoxia.

He upped his swimming speed as much as he could, but tried to force himself to breathe evenly even as he did.

Grasping the edge of one of the vent shafts to pull himself through, he noticed his skin had gone blue-tinged.

He wasn’t surprised by his vision going black, followed by his mind.

*

He hadn’t expected to wake again, but he did, blinking up into yellow eyes.

He was on the floor somewhere, his feet still in water, and the creature was leaning over him, hand on his chest. His chest ached where the other’s hand rested, and when the creature pulled his hand back, there was blood on it. There was blood on John’s chest, too, but only a slight wound, which was healing almost too fast for him to see.

“I could have sworn I was going to wake up dead," John muttered, sitting up. He felt surprisingly well considering the circumstances.

The creature snorted, washing his hand in the water at their feet. “I had forgotten," he said, voice rusted and gravelly with disuse, “How foolish humans can be."

John glared at him. Not so much for the remark as for other things. “You know, if you’d just told me you could talk, we wouldn’t have had to fight about things earlier."

“It has been a very long time since I needed to speak," the creature said, getting to his feet.

Following his example, John got up as well, looking around. It wasn’t any room he’d seen before. It had work stations and something that looked like a giant membrane, and unlike most of the ship, it was quite well lit. Apparently he’d ended up in the control room after all. “This really is a ship."

The creature nodded, brushing dried salt off of some of the instruments. “It has not flown for a very long time, but it is still a ship."

“How long is a very long time?" John asked, looking at the markings on one of the consoles. They looked a bit like Ancient, but still very different.

“I have lost count," the creature said, running his fingers over the panels. “At first, we still counted, because we were waiting. But then, as our people began dying, we forgot. I am the only one left now. I have no need to count the years."

John couldn’t imagine that; being left alone for a long enough time that he couldn’t remember how long it had been.

The creature closed his eyes and sighed, an oddly human gesture. “The last time this ship flew, the Alterans had just fallen to their constructs, those who did not flee. The constructs turned on us once they had finished their masters."

“That was ten thousand years ago," John said, stunned. “At least the way we count time."

“That may well be right," the creature agreed, opening his eyes again to look at John. “I have not seen a human since before the ship sank."

John wasn’t sure his mind could even process that. “No wonder you didn’t want me leaving," he muttered instead. “What *are* you?"

“Once, we were called the Wraith," the creature said. “Once, we were the most feared creatures in the galaxy. But the Soulless ones drove us to extinction, and those who remained were forced to adept. Our scientists developed new ways to live, adapting us to life in the depths of the ocean. We found ways to live without our former source of food."

Catching a glimpse of sharp teeth as the creature spoke, John frowned. “Let me guess. Humans?"

“Indeed," the other man confirmed. “But there were no humans here, and we had to feed. And so we adapted, developing ways to take energy from geothermal vents instead of humans. It was not ideal, but it was survival. For centuries, we were driven by the hunger for revenge. But time passed and we began loosing sight of that need."

He snarled, obviously annoyed. “And as we lost sight of our revenge, we lost our drive to live. Before that, no Wraith ever died unless they were killed. To begin dying, like humans do ... It was a shock."

“And you’re the only one left? Are you sure?" John couldn’t help feeling sorry for the Wraith. He certainly wouldn’t enjoy being alone for what had to have been decades at least.

The Wraith nodded. “We were all connected, our minds one. Every death was felt by those left behind, until only I was left." He hissed. “The silence was not pleasant."

“You’re as much a prisoner here as I am," John said, meeting the other’s eyes. “Your cage is just less physical."

They were silent for a while, the creature tracing the patterns on the consoles with a sharp nail.

“The information you carry," he finally said, “It could destroy the Soulless ones?"

“Potentially," John agreed. “I have some pretty damn smart friends back home."

The Wraith looked thoughtful. “Maybe," he finally said, baring his teeth in a very unpleasant grin. “Maybe there is still hope for revenge."

“Hope is never-ending, someone told me once," John agreed.

“Once," the answer came, “We said the same about the Wraith."

Sighing, John looked at the various instruments. “I’ve never met another Wraith," he agreed. “But there are a lot of planets that aren’t connected to the gate network, planets humans couldn’t live on. Wraith might, though. Couldn’t there be others?"

The startled look on the Wraith’s face made him look a lot less intimidating. “I had not considered that," he said, sounding amazed. “I have been wrapped up in my loss."

“Well, you did have good reason," John pointed out. “There are people where I come from who’d say revenge isn’t worth it, but they’ve never had only revenge to drive them forwards, I imagine."

He sighed. “I wasn’t alone on the mission. One of my men was with me. He sacrificed himself so I could get the data out. I owe it to him to not let his sacrifice be in vain."

The Wraith nodded. “I understand," he said. “But there is a problem."

“Oh?", John asked, a little more snappish than he’d intended.

“There was a Portal here once. This was an Alteran outpost before it fell in the war. But it rests at the bottom of the ocean now, almost two thousand feet down. Even to me, that is a difficult dive. You would not survive." The Wraith actually sounded apologetic.

John deflated. “Oh."

The Wraith might be clever, but the Jumper was in too bad a shape to be repaired, and it wasn’t really a long-distance vessel.

So close and yet so far. John kicked the work station in frustration. A light blinked on, setting off a chain reaction of lights coming online. It looked a little like a starry sky.

Watching the lights for a while, John noticed the Wraith doing the same. He wondered how long it had been since he’d seen the stars. It must be painful to have lived aboard a ship for so long without being able to go anywhere.

 _Except,_ he realised, _That he probably hasn’t tried. Why would he, if he thinks he’s the last?_

“There’s still power in this ship," he said. “Right?"

The Wraith tilted his head at him, in that ‘I have no idea what you’re on about now’ way he had. “Yes," he agreed. “The main systems are all online."

John grinned. “Can it still fly?"

“Not in its current state, but that can be amended," the other man said, tapping the side of the work station. “It would do you no good, however. Only Wraith may fly a Hive Ship."

“Good thing I have a Wraith available, then." John grinned even wider.

The Wraith was beginning to catch on. “The Asurans would notice us immediately."

“You can get to the remains of my ship. There’s a cloak generator there, and if you can fix this ship, you can probably adapt that." It was a bit like needling Rodney along at that point, except that Rodney wasn’t tall, ridiculously strong and almost immortal.

“It will take some time," the Wraith replied, though he was grinning as well.

“What are you worrying about? You’re immortal," John pointed out. “And I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides, it doesn’t have to get further than a planet with an accessible gate at first."

Grinning as wide as John now, which was a lot more unsettling when you had teeth like a shark, the Wraith did something, and the dormant systems came online, the membrane screen flickering to life.

“We better get started, then."

*

“Dr. Weir!"

Elizabeth looked up from her paperwork, blinking at the technician. “Yes?" She asked.

“We’re getting an incoming wormhole, ma’am," the technician said. “Dr. Weir, it’s Lt. Colonel Sheppard’s IDC."

Elizabeth was in the gate room before the technician had even finished the sentence. She barely waited for the soldiers to get in position, and the replicator-detection scanner to get online, before giving the order to lower the shield. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Teyla and Ronon come running, Rodney surprisingly close behind them. Certain news travelled fast on Atlantis.

The shield faded, and Elizabeth found herself holding her breath. Judging by the crowd, she wasn’t the only one.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, someone walked through the gate.

John looked thinner than the last time she’s seen him, and there were odd smudges of some kind of grease on his arms, but he was grinning like a madman. “Miss me?" He asked.

The way everyone rushed forward to meet him was probably the best answer he could get.

Behind John, the gate shimmered as someone else walked through.

Everyone immediately reacted, weapons at the ready.

If the newcomer was a replicator, he was the weirdest one Elizabeth had ever seen. He was tall, with long white hair, dressed in a leather coat, but with no shoes, and his skin was actually green.

John raised his arms. “He’s with me," he assured. “I know it’s a breach of protocol and all, but he did sort of save my life twice and gave me a ride home, and he’ll let us borrow his spaceship, so I think the benefits outweigh the cons."

Earning John’s trust wasn’t an easy thing. Elizabeth trusted John, and if he trusted this man, alien or not, the least she could do was to give him a chance.

She walked closer, looking up at the stranger. He was definitely not human, but that wasn’t something he should be judged for.

Extracting himself from the crowd, John walked up to them. “He’s kinda like a were-shark, only he doesn’t turn into a shark at full moon, and he’s not a fish. So not that much like a were-shark, I suppose. He’s more like an energy vampire from outer space. But as long as we find him a room with access to the ocean, I’m sure he’ll be fine."

Shaking her head a little, having feeling there was an in-joke she missed there, Elizabeth smiled at the alien and offered him her hand. “Hello," she said. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the head of this expedition. “You’re welcome here."

The relief in his eyes was almost palpable as he took her hand. His skin was cool. “Hello, Doctor Elizabeth Weir," he said, pronouncing her name carefully. “I am afraid I have no name to offer you in return. What was once my name no longer applies."

“Well," Elizabeth said, smiling up at him. “Maybe we can help you find a new one."

John smirked.

“Personally,"he said, “I think he looks like a Todd."


End file.
